


Seven Years

by missindependent4



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missindependent4/pseuds/missindependent4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving England and Draco behind to play professional quidditch in Australia Harry finally returns home. Hoping to remedy his mistake from years past, Harry realizes he just might be seven years too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Years

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Harry sighed wearily as he stood in line waiting to get his international portkey. It had been seven years, seven long years, since Harry had permanently set foot in England. Oh sure, he had been back there for matches or the occasional visit and two years ago the Quidditch League Cup had even been in Holyhead where Harry’s team, the Thundelarra Thunderers, had trounced England’s Appleby Arrows. Every now and again he would come back for a few days, but he hadn’t been back since the League Cup. The current quidditch season had just finished with the Thunderers winning once more, but it would be Harry’s last for mid-season he had announced his retirement. It had caused quite the stir when the announcement officially came out because retiring at the young age of twenty six was nearly unheard of. Harry was still young and some had even said he was in his best form yet, but Harry was tired. Not only was he mentally and physically tired, he had a longing deep in his bones to be back in England.

It was hardly a year after the war ended when Harry signed with the Australian Thundelarra Thunderers. To say the team was elated was an understatement; not many had thought the battle hero would go into professional quidditch, but to go to Australia and not stick with an English team? The English sporting world was in an outrage and even Harry’s friends found it hard to understand, but how could he tell them that he needed to get away?   He couldn’t bear the thought of joining the aurors like Ron or becoming some ministry minion like Hermione. When Hermione accused him of running away he hadn’t denied it because it was true. He locked up Grimmauld Place like it had been for so many years and took the first international portkey to Australia a week after his announcement. Looking back at it now as Harry slowly inched forward in the line he could safely say he didn’t regret moving to Australia one bit. Harry had many of them, but this wasn’t one. There was only thing about his move that he regretted and that was leaving Draco behind.

It wasn’t nearly as surprising to Harry as it was to everyone else in the Order when Draco Malfoy defected not even a month after fleeing Hogwarts. His mother had been killed and his father hadn’t been seen in weeks when Draco fled with the help of Snape and ushered to Grimmuald Place for safekeeping. Due to such cramped quarters it was impossible to avoid the blonde boy and because of it Harry had gotten to know Draco. It wasn’t truly until after Harry had return from a battle, his body aching and in pain, that he began to see Draco differently.

“If you add in mint leaves the pain will ease faster.”

Harry was sitting on his bed, dirty with matted blood and inspecting a rather nasty looking cut. Somehow Draco had bunked with Harry. Harry thought it was because he was the only one willing to put up with the blonde.

Draco nodded towards the pain potion sitting on the bedside table.

“When brewing the potion you need to add mint leaves. Typically a pain potion takes several minutes to take effect, but if you add mint leaves it’s only mere seconds. It’s more soothing.”

“Oh,” Harry replied dumbly.

Draco moved from his own bed towards his trunk, shuffling around inside it until he pulled out a phial with a pale green liquid inside.

“Here.”

Harry accepted the potion, but didn’t drink it right away, staring at it before glancing back at Draco to see him roll his eyes.

“I didn’t poison it if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Right. Harry downed the phial and immediately felt a cool sensation run through his body. It wasn’t unpleasant, just unexpected. But Draco had been right. Moments later his body’s ache began to lessen and he felt his shoulders relax.

“Thanks. How did you know about that?”

Draco shrugged, looking down at the floor.

“When you all are gone for long periods of time I have to find something to occupy myself with so I make potions. I’ve tried to improve some, like that one.”

“Really?”

Draco nodded back at him.

From that point on Harry had spent most of his free time with Draco. The Slytherin wasn’t allowed to leave the house for fear of being captured and when Harry wasn’t training or off chasing deatheaters and hunting horcruxes he spent most of his time with the blonde.

Somewhere along the way Harry became aware of Draco’s attraction to him. The subtle touches and comments here and there, but Harry wasn’t sure how to react to them. He cared for Draco deeply, just as much as Ron and Hermione, but was there more to it?

When the final battle was over and everyone began moving out, Draco stayed. He didn’t have anywhere else to go since Lucius Malfoy was still missing and the manor was under constant surveillance. The Malfoy assets had been frozen and Draco was virtually homeless and penniless. And for six months after Harry and Draco had continued to live just like before as if there hadn’t been a battle and Harry was just home more often than before. But unbeknownst to Draco Harry had felt the pressure from his friends and society to join the aurors or get a job in the ministry. People always tried to corral him into charity events or giving speeches and the weight of it was bearing down on him. Harry hadn’t told anyone that he had gone to see a quidditch recruiter until after he had already signed with the Thunderers and was expected in Australia in just five days time.

So Harry had somehow had to break the news to Draco first. It was over dinner one day and even thinking back on it now the memory was so clear in Harry’s head he would never need a pensieve for it.

“I found a job.”

“You did?” asked Draco, looking up from the salmon he was cutting. “Not at the ministry I hope?”

Draco knew all about Harry’s loathing to find a job at the ministry and his heart warmed at the fact that the blonde knew him so well, but the feeling was quickly dispelled when he thought about the news he was about to tell.

“No, not there. Quidditch actually.”

“Really?” Draco’s voice was even and Harry couldn’t tell what exactly he was thinking. Draco was so different from the boy he used to know in school, yet in many ways he was so similar. Sometimes it was impossible to read just what Draco was feeling or thinking. Now was one of those instances.

“Yes. For the Thundelarra Thunderers.”

Harry watched Draco’s expression change from cool composure to confusion.

“The Thunderers? Australia? B-but why not one in England?”

The desperation in Draco’s voice and the look of hurt on his face pulled at Harry’s heartstrings.

“I just need to get away, Draco. I can’t stand being in England anymore surrounded by all these expectations of what people have for the great Harry Potter. Surely you understand?” Harry pleaded.

“I do. Yes.”

“I won’t make you leave Grimmauld. I would love for you to stay here.”

“No.”

The tone came out harsher than Harry expected and Harry frowned. He had thought that Draco would be the most supportive of all his friends, but clearly he was wrong. He just wasn’t sure why and he didn’t think he would get a clear answer.

“But-,” Harry began, before Draco cut him off.

“I’ve overstayed my welcome anyway.” Draco forced a smile, but Harry didn’t return it.

“You haven’t overstayed anything, Draco.”

Draco ignored him and stood up, taking his half-eaten plate to the sink with him.

“Draco, please.”

The clattering of Draco’s plate and utensils in the sink caused Harry to wince. This wasn’t how he imagined this conversation going at all.

The blonde turned towards him and Harry could clearly see he was forcing a smile.

“I need to do something with my life also, Harry. So maybe by you taking this job it’s the encouragement I need to find one as well.” Draco didn’t seem convinced, but Harry found himself nodding anyways.

“What will you do?” Harry asked. He knew that Draco had tried to find a job, but it was nearly impossible. Despite the fact that Draco had defected to their side his name still held a stigma to it. Add to the fact that Lucius Malfoy was still unaccounted for it added more wariness to those who didn’t know Draco.

“I’ll find something.” Draco’s smile was tight and Harry just nodded once more.

Draco left the kitchen and Harry felt as if he was missing something; what he wasn’t quite sure or at that time he couldn’t quite place it.

Now Harry knew that what he missed those seven years was Draco. It wasn’t just Draco’s companionship he missed or his wit and sarcasm, but everything about the blonde. They had written over the years and Harry had seen him when he visited, but the last time Harry saw Draco was at the League Cup two years ago. The letters since then had been infrequent and there seemed to be a distance between the two. Perhaps it had taken Harry these seven years to come to terms with what he hadn’t all those years before when he and Draco lived in Grimmuald Place together.

Harry was finally next in line to receive his portkey. Finally he would be home in England and maybe it wouldn’t be too late to fix whatever had happened between Harry and Draco in the two years since they last met.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry was exhausted. He lay down on his bed in Grimmuald Place with a groan and took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes blearily before finally letting them close.

The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind. Ron and Hermione had met him at the ministry, having expected Harry since he sent them the letter saying he was coming home. He couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment settle over him when he saw that Draco wasn’t with them. He had sent the blonde a letter telling him of his arrival, but never heard a response.

All Harry wanted to do was return to Grimmuald Place, and wasn’t that a first, and sleep for several hours, but the Weasleys had something else in mind. Ron and Hermione whisked him off to the Burrow where the Weasley family and some of Harry’s old friends were there for a surprise dinner. Harry was grateful, but he didn’t feel the least bit sorry when he insisted he needed to leave only a couple of hours later or else he would fall asleep at the dinner table.

It was mostly true. The other part of him wanted to be left alone with his maudlin thoughts. Why had Draco not responded to his letter or show up at the ministry? Harry was sure that if their roles were reversed he would have done just that.

It was several days later, a Saturday, and Ron and Hermione had decided to throw him a coming home party at the Leaky. Harry had made sure to take extra good care of his looks because surely Draco would be there, right? He had sent the blonde two owls since he arrived home, but had yet to hear anything back.

“Harry! You look so handsome!”

Harry grinned, heat spreading to his cheeks. He had decided to wear black pants and a green button up, hoping that his looks would impress Draco. If he showed up.

“Thanks.”

“Here mate,” said Ron, weaving his way to them. He handed Harry an ale which Harry gratefully accepted.

For the next hour Harry proceeded to chat halfheartedly with many of his friends and he felt bad for paying attention to the conversation only somewhat. His eyes kept drifting towards the door in hopes that Draco would finally walk through.

It was going on nine when Harry did finally see him. The door opened and in walked Draco, looking just as wonderful as he ever did, but more so. He was wearing finely tailored clothes in shades of grey and his hair was cut short so that it hung out of his eyes.

“Draco,” Harry murmured and without a bat of an eyelash he set his drink on the nearest table and made his way over to the blonde.

Harry could instantly tell when Draco found him for his eyes widened slightly and there was a small smile.   When Harry stood in front of him Draco appeared almost nervous.

“Harry.”

“Draco. It’s so good to see you!”

Harry moved forward to hug the blonde who seemed a little reluctant to hug him back. Harry hugged him tightly as if he was afraid Draco would slip through his fingers and disappear.

“You never replied to my letters,” Harry told him as they pulled away from one another.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Draco.

There was a slight cough behind them and Draco glanced back, smiling.

Harry hadn’t noticed him. He was tall, just a bit taller than Harry, and he also had dark hair although it was combed perfectly in place like Draco’s. He was tan like Harry; perhaps his family had some Italian in him, and appeared to be a few years older than he and Draco.

“Harry,” said Draco gently, stepping to stand behind the man who wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist. “This is William, my boyfriend.”

The sound in the pub seemed to dim as Harry focused on those words. Boyfriend? Draco had a boyfriend? Since when? Was this why Draco had been avoiding him?

“I -,” stumbled Harry, before attempting a smile although he was sure it appeared more like a grimace. “Nice to meet you. I really must go though.”

Harry refused to look at Draco as he turned away from the couple and if he did he would have seen Draco’s frowning face, but at that moment Harry needed to leave.

“Hermione,” said Harry once he found the witch who was talking with Luna, Seamus, and Ron. “I’m still feeling a little jet lagged so I’m going to head home.”

“Are you sure, Harry?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Yes,” he replied quickly. “I’ll owl you later.”

Harry didn’t wait for a reply and didn’t even bother to wait to leave the pub to apparate. He needed to get away now before he fell apart and he apparated that very second.

 

* * *

 

For two days Harry remained locked up in Grimmuald Place, ignoring sent owls, until Hermione barged her way in.

“You can’t hide here forever, Harry. You’ve been home for days now and it’s like you’re still back in Australia!” the woman said as she rifled through Harry’s kitchen cupboards for tea cups, cream, and sugar.

“I know. It’s just…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say. It’s not like any of his friends ever suspected there was anything more than friendship between himself and Draco, because there hadn’t been, but why did his heart ache when he thought about the fact that Draco had a boyfriend and it wasn’t him?

“Here.” Hermione slid him a cup of tea and he took it from her gratefully, avoiding her pointed gaze. She rolled her eyes. “Draco’s been asking about you.”

“Funny, that,” replied Harry moodily. “I wrote him letters for weeks without a reply and now he wants to know why I haven’t come around? Fucking lovely. Arsehole.”

“Honestly. Just go over to his flat and talk it out.”

Harry glared, not so much at Hermione, but at the suggestion.

“And meet his new boyfriend while I’m at it? No thanks.”

As Harry took a sip of his tea Hermione’s face softened and she reached out to touch his arm.

“Oh, Harry. Have you really just realized?”

“Realized what?”

She sent him a small yet sad smile, squeezing his arm as she did so.

“That you like Draco as more than a friend. It was so obvious he liked you back then, but I never wanted to ask you about it. I felt like I would have been intruding on something and it wasn’t right of me to bring it up. I wasn’t ever sure if you two had discussed your relationship and nothing ever came from it or you were too oblivious to your own feelings.”

Harry should have felt insulted, but he didn’t because he agreed with her one hundred percent. If he hadn’t been so oblivious maybe he never would have left England. If he had acted on his suppressed feelings perhaps Draco wouldn’t have a boyfriend that wasn’t Harry.

“It doesn’t even matter now,” Harry said bitterly, shaking his head. “He’s taken and I’m sure that’s the reason he’s been avoiding me. How long have they been dating anyway?”

Hermione looked away and down at the table as if there was a very lovely pattern ingrained in it.

“About a year and a half.”

Harry almost choked on the tea that he was drinking as she told him before setting his cup down.

“Fucking hell!”

A year and half? In all that time Draco had not mentioned once that he was dating someone or even talking to someone. Had they really grown that apart that Draco felt like he couldn’t tell Harry something as simple as he was dating? Or was there another reason altogether?

“That explains the fact that I haven’t seen him in two years and the likelihood that on my last two trips home he avoided meeting up with me. How did this not come up until now?”

“I’m sorry, Harry. It’s not like Ron or I see Draco a whole lot. He doesn’t work at the ministry and we don’t exactly run in the same circles since you had left.”

Harry rubbed his forehead and sat back in his chair. Suddenly tea didn’t seem adequate enough and he was in need of something stronger. Maybe he would firecall Ron after he got off work and go out for a pint. Or five.

“Honestly this is the most I’ve corresponded with Draco in such a short period of time in years,” Hermione confessed as she poured herself another cup of tea. Harry shook his head as she offered to refill his own cup.

“Oh,” Harry replied.

Hermione huffed and spoke eagerly. “What I’m saying is that Draco is doing this for a reason. You know he can be cryptic or at the very least keep his thoughts held closely. I think he’s trying to see if I know why you are now avoiding him, but I haven’t told him anything. I wasn’t even sure, but it’s not like I would have told him anyway.”

“And I appreciate that, Hermione, truly. The thought of seeing Draco makes this whole situation ten times worse. I just want to avoid him for as long as possible.”

Harry felt that it could be possible to avoid the blonde for a while. After all, the last two times he was in England they didn’t see each other.

“Not likely,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “Now that he’s poking around and not finding answers he’s going to be looking for you without outright coming to Grimmuald Place.”

Harry didn’t reply. Instead he got up and moved to the kitchen sink to empty his tea cup.

“Harry, just owl him and say you want to speak. Surely he will reply back now.”

Shaking his head, Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. Since when did he feel like some Hufflepuff teenager with all of these unwanted emotions? He never felt like this when he was younger so why did he now all of a sudden?

“Maybe eventually, but right now I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

He felt Hermione’s hand on his shoulder and he turned towards her, her brown eyes looking at him sadly.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Harry.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

She didn’t stay long after that and although Harry was grateful for his friend he was also glad when she left.

 

 

It was nearly a week and several ignored letters from Draco later when there was a knock on his door. Sighing wearily Harry answered it, unprepared for just who was on the other side.

Draco stood there looking as handsome as ever in a blue button up and a pair of dark jeans.

“Draco,” Harry finally said, standing in the doorway.

Draco’s eyebrow raised slightly, a trick Harry still wasn’t quite sure how he managed.

“Yes, well, I have been owling you,” the blonde replied evenly.

“Come in.” Harry chose to ignore what Draco said altogether, not quite sure how to address the other man. He was angry, hurt, and upset so he opted to avoid the topic even just for a moment.

Harry led them to the sitting room, a room they were both all too familiar with for it was where they spent a majority of their time when they lived together those many years ago.

Harry sat on the edge of his chair, unable to relax. He knew this conversation would happen eventually, but he wasn’t quite prepared for it and the unwanted emotions it would surely bring.

He folded his hands together and then unfolded them. It had been years since he felt this uncomfortable and to think, he and Draco used to live together in this very house. How had it come to this?

‘You ran away,’ he told himself. Inwardly Harry scowled.

“How have you been?” Harry finally asked.

Small talk. He could manage that at least for the time being.

“Fine,” Draco replied smoothly. He didn’t smile and Harry couldn’t quite read him. Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen each other in two years and they truly had just grown that far apart, but Draco had always been good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. “I’m in the process of finishing a book about potions, actually. One that I wrote. It’s going through the final editing stages and should be ready in a couple of months.”

For some odd reason Harry’s heart broke a little more at this news. Since when had he and Draco not shared big achievements like this with one another? They had done so many times over the years, such as when Harry was nominated and later won Quidditch League Player of the Year. It dawned on Harry that he had been right all along and that they had grown more apart than he ever thought possible.

“That’s great,” Harry said softly. “Really. I’m so happy for you, Draco.” He attempted a smile, but Harry was sure it looked like he was grimacing instead. He probably was.

Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t look happy. You look like someone just died and you’re trying your best to put on a brave face.”

Well wasn’t that quite the statement and yet it was somewhat true. The Draco Harry had known was gone, apparently had been gone, for quite some time. It was as if he had evaporated and Harry only recently figured it out.

Harry didn’t reply and instead averted Draco’s steely gaze.

“I’ve probably sent you at least ten owls since you arrived home.”

“So now that I’m home you suddenly care?” Harry said angrily, turning his head to glare at the blonde. Harry’s tone must have surprised Draco because his grey eyes widened as if startled.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please,” spat Harry, clenching his hands, “I sent you letters frequently my last few months in Australia and you never replied. I told you the damned day and time I was arriving back and you didn’t have the courtesy to send anything back so why should I care that now you want to talk to me?”

Draco’s lips were pursed and for a moment they sat glaring at one another until Draco’s shoulders sagged slightly.

“I didn’t know how you would feel,” Draco replied softly, his eyes darting away from Harry’s.

“About what? Your boyfriend of a year and a half that you fucking forgot to mention? What the fuck, Draco?”

Now Harry was angry and these unwanted feelings were bubbling up inside of him. They were a whirl of anger, hurt, longing, jealousy, and something that Harry didn’t wish to acknowledge.

Harry stood and began to pace in front of his chair.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” the blonde began.

Harry turned towards him and glared.

“Oh I don’t know,” he said sardonically, “how about ‘Hey Harry, I met someone and now we’re dating.’ But no. You date for a year and a half with absolutely no mention and then I find out at my coming home party. Some fucking surprise!”

“Why do you care so much?” cried Draco, rising to his feet and meeting Harry’s glare with one of his own. “Do I need Saint Potter’s approval?”

“Fuck you, Draco. It’s the fact that I thought we were good friends and you couldn’t tell me something as simple as you found a boyfriend.”

“It’s not just that simple as you claim.” Draco stepped closer to him and Harry resisted stepping back. He wouldn’t let Draco get the upper hand, he couldn’t.

“And why not?”

“Did you know,” began Draco, taking one small step closer to Harry, “that I waited for you? For five fucking years I waited for you. Why do you think I continued to live with you after the war ended, Harry? I thought you knew how I felt about you and then you ran off to Australia.”

Harry swallowed, a knot forming in his throat once more and a feeling of nausea settling in his stomach. “I told myself you needed space after everything you went through and that you would be back within a year or two. Maybe then I could see where things went and you would change your mind about me. And then another year went by and another and after your visits home not once did you seem to see or care about the fact that I was madly in love with you.”

Harry’s hands began to shake. Draco had been in love with him all this time and Harry had been too blind to see it or at least acknowledge it. He had just wanted to escape and instead he ran away from the best possible thing.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“You came home for the League Cup and I told myself this was it, that is had been five years. I had to move on if nothing happened. Maybe I should have outright told you my feelings, but I felt you surely knew. How could you not?”

Harry could hear the pain in Draco’s voice and when he looked at Draco his eyes were pleading with him to understand. On some level Harry could understand where Draco was coming from. Would Harry have been ready for a relationship with Draco? He would never know, but Harry wanted to say yes. That if Draco had asked him to come he would have in a heartbeat. After all, he was the reason for Harry’s return now.

“When you went back to Australia I vowed to not wait any longer. I couldn’t put myself through that anymore. I met William at the publishing house I had just gotten a job at editing books. He was a senior editor and when he asked me out I said yes. You must understand, Harry,” Draco insisted, taking one step closer so that they were nearly toe to toe.

“You loved me?” Harry asked weakly. He couldn’t stand any longer. The information and the emotion overload were too overwhelming and he sat. Draco immediately sat next to him, their legs touching one another.

“Yes.”

“I-,” but Harry couldn’t find the words. He leaned forward so that his arms rested on his thighs. “Fuck,” he wheezed.

Draco didn’t say anything and several moments passed before Harry spoke again, refusing to look up at Draco.

“I guess I fucked up and it’s too late now.”

“Too late for what?”

“For there to be an us. You know, you were the reason I came home.”

Draco was silent and Harry laughed grimly.

“I’m such a fucking idiot and apparently seven years too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry turned his head and glanced at Draco. For once the blonde appeared vulnerable; his expression a mixture of desperation and something Harry couldn’t quite place. He wanted to say hopeful, but surely that couldn’t be it.

“What do you think it means, Draco? I finally realize my feelings for you and come home only to find you’re taken.”

“I-,” began Draco, but Harry interrupted him. He stood quickly causing Draco to lean back.

“I think you should leave.” It came out as little more than a whisper, but if Draco stayed Harry was sure he would cry. And wouldn’t that be fantastic? He hadn’t cried since Dumbledore died and nearly ten years later as an adult he wanted to do it again.

“Alright,” Draco agreed quietly. He stood and they silently walked to the door, Harry still having his anti-apparition wards up.

“Harry,” said Draco softly, turning towards Harry. Draco looked at him with a drawn face and he moved to step towards Harry, but Harry stepped back. The blonde’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, me too.”

Draco stood a moment longer as if waiting for Harry to say something else, but when he didn’t he continued down the steps.

Harry entered the house again and shut the door, leaning against it and shut his eyes.

‘So this is what it feels like to have your heart broken,’ he thought.

Harry thought it was worse than dying.

 

* * *

 

Another week passed and after much cajoling from Hermione he finally told her he saw Draco and the ensuing conversation. She and Ron took it upon themselves to get Harry out of the house. He had dinner at the Burrow one evening and Ron took him out with Seamus, Dean, and Neville for drinks another night. Harry truly appreciated it, but the overwhelming feeling of heartache had him re-thinking his decision of retirement. He was still young and in good form. Perhaps he could return next year. He was positive the Thunderers would have him back in an instant and if not surely there was another quidditch team that would take him.

It was Hermione’s twenty-seventh birthday and Harry along with many of their friends was out celebrating. Harry was at the bar, having just ordered his third pint, and for what felt like the first time since he returned home he was actually enjoying himself, when he felt someone roughly grab his shoulder.

“What the -,” he started, but he stopped when he saw who had just accosted him. Draco stood before him in a fancy jacket, black pants, and a white dress shirt that had the top few buttons unbuttoned.

“We need to talk,” the blonde told him and he forcefully dragged Harry away from the bar, leaving his almost full glass of ale, and out of the bar.

The cool September air felt refreshing against Harry’s face and the gentle evening breeze felt even better.

“What is it Draco?” Harry asked, his voice on edge.

Smooth pale hands touched his cheeks and before Harry could register what was happening Draco was kissing him, his tongue sliding over Harry’s lips asking for entrance which Harry quickly complied with. Harry’s arms found their way around Draco’s slim hips and he pulled him closer, never wanting to forget how they felt or how Draco’s tongue was dancing with his own. Draco sighed and kissed Harry one last time before pulling away.

“I still love you, you prat,” Draco said breathily, his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck. “William asked me to marry him tonight and I told him no, that I couldn’t do it.”

“You – what?”

Was Harry hearing him correctly? It was almost too good to be true and Harry’s arms tightened around Draco’s waist as if he was afraid he would lose him in this moment.

“I told him I couldn’t because I was still in love with someone. That I had been in love with him for eight years and that there wasn’t anyone else for me, whether said prat ever realized it or not.” Draco smiled, and shook his head slightly. Harry continued to stare at him bewilderedly. “Lucky for me though he finally realized it.”

In that moment Harry knew that it wasn’t too good to be true. He leaned down and kissed Draco’s lips briefly.

“I may be seven years too late, but I’ve come to my senses.”

“Thank goodness because I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And right there, in front of a small bar in London, Harry held on to Draco tightly and kissed him for all he was worth because he had let this moment pass him by far too many times and he wouldn’t miss the chance for one more moment.

 

 

 

 


End file.
